Cakes
by Mierinn
Summary: Ever since Thor tasted those delicious cakes, he can't stop thinking about the girl who baked them. This might be slightly problematic and earn him a few teases from Loki. / Pre-Thor. An attempt at a humorous short fic about Loki and Thor's youth.
1. Cakes

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Thor, as I regret to inform you. If I did I (probably) wouldn't need to write fanfiction!

**A/N: **This idea popped into my head and I just had to write it down. I apologize for any mistakes you might find, but it was written sort of in a rush. This is set during Loki and Thor's early youth (lets imagine Thor is somewhere between 13-15 in this). It's meant to be humorous, but I don't know if I succeeded, so please let me know! I'd really appreciate the feedback, whether it's constructive criticism or not :)

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**Cakes**

Thor couldn't stop thinking about Elsred's cakes.

He remembered how the sweet, pleasantly pungent smell hung in the air, after she had finished baking them and put them on a net to cool down. Oh, that smell! Just thinking about it made Thor's mouth water and crave the wonderful sensation of savouring one. It was hardly fair that a single girl possessed such baking skills.

That fateful first bite into what he deemed as the best thing he had ever tasted in his life had been his point of no return.

When the fluffy, slightly moist pastry melted into his mouth, he knew he could never again find another quite like it. It was absolutely delectable, filling him with the taste of chocolate, which was his favorite flavor.

Her recipe was spot on: the chocolate didn't taste overly sugary or sour, but a perfect combination of both; the cake itself wasn't dry or tough to chew on, but rather airy and smooth. It was unlike anything Thor had ever tasted before.

He had since asked Loki to try to reproduce them with magic, but he had been unsuccessful. Whatever it was that Elsred put into them, it made them so unique there was just no way to replicate them.

This led him to conclude the cakes had to be made by her own hands to have that sinfully amazing taste.

Elsred was a maiden his own age. She was friends with Sif, despite the fact that Elsred lacked the enthusiasm of the other girl for the art of combat. Elsred actually dedicated herself to calmer tasks, such as reading and baking.

Surprisingly, even though Sif usually loathed girls who kept to the role society had instructed upon them, she absolutely loved Elsred. Perhaps because, unlike most girls their age, Elsred never made fun of Sif's aspirations of becoming a fearsome warrior, but rather supported them. She even admired Sif's courage and looked up to her.

In the weeks that followed his tasting of the aforementioned cakes from Valhalla, Thor constantly caught himself thinking of how pretty her honey-colored hair was, how her kind smile and her green eyes were able to light up a whole room and how she must have magic in her blood to be able to produce such a delicacy.

"I can't stop thinking about her. Or her delicious cakes," Thor spat out to Loki some time later, when they were sitting at the training grounds, after their jarring practice.

Loki raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Her... cakes?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. After the few seconds it took Thor to realize his brother was making innuendo about her butt, he immediately shoved Loki hard in the arm.

"Not _that_ kind of cakes!" He blushed lightly, embarrassed that his words could thus be interpreted and he hadn't noticed. Thor was also baffled with his brother's inability to understand his seriousness in the matter. "The ones she baked. The ones we ate on that stupid fieldtrip _you _decided to take to Vanaheim to visit the sorceress who instructed Mother on magic."

"Oh, I see, we're talking about Lady Elsred," Loki grinned widely, amused at his brother's apparent frustration. "Well, those were indeed the finest of fine cakes, brother. Not that the _other_ cakes on the maiden are any worse, which I'm sure you haven't missed," Loki threw a knowing look at Thor and chuckled, earning himself a glare from the eldest of the young princes of Asgard.

"You're insufferable, brother," Thor stood up, frowning. He wiped the sweat off his face with one of the towels the servants had left layed out for them.

"And you are infatuated with a maiden's cakes!" no sooner had the words left Loki's mouth, he threw himself back and laughed until he was practically rolling on the floor.

"You are indeed the epitome of witty jokes, Loki," Thor replied dryly before walking away. Loki's laughter echoed through the open space and ringed in his ears, even after he was but a few strides away from the closest entrance to the castle.


	2. Mischief

**A/N:** Thanks so much to Toolazytologin for the encouraging review and to SuzzieSiddle for following! Hope y'all like this chapter! ^^ Feedback is always welcome =)

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**Mischief**

Thor was sitting in a chair in the large balcony adjacent to his room. He was polishing the sword he was going to practice with later that afternoon, in the fields. Although he knew Odin would probably assign him a more powerful weapon once he was older, Thor had to be instructed in all sorts of things before he was worthy of such an honor.

Handling different weaponry and using different fighting stances, techniques and tactics - those were all part of what he was expected to excel at. Perhaps one of the most important lessons Thor had learned from the swordmaster who was in charge of his and Loki's physical training, however, was that he should also know how to take proper care of his tools; not let someone else do it for him.

Thor was a prince. Although good-natured, arrogance was a trait he innately possessed, given his lineage and how he was next in line to rule over Asgard. The first time his instructor had taken Thor and Loki into the weapon's vault to sharpen half a hundred axes, swords and daggers, Thor had protested.

He scornfully argued that was no chore for the sons of Odin and refused to do it, crossing his arms over his chest. The swordmaster's calm reply to his tantrum echoed through his mind now, as he was working on the sword.

_What if you're away on another realm in a battle and you don't have anyone to do it for you? What then, young Thor?_

Over time, he had learned to enjoy the task, simply because he figured it _did_ give him leverage to know how to do things himself, instead of relying on someone else.

Even Loki, who had since evolved such lenghts with his magic that he was able to improve a weapon's condition with nothing but a snap of his fingers, would sometimes sit with him and do it slowly by hand.

Thor enjoyed the silence that would settle over them on those occasions. There would be nothing but the sound of metal against metal, hanging in the air for a long time. It felt peaceful, the task having an unsual way of making Loki quiet. He felt it humbled them both into understanding respect for those who served them and the work they developped.

"Brother!" Loki's call distracted Thor from his musings and made him look up, to face the mischievous ear-to-ear grin Loki had plastered across his face. "There you are!"

"Is something the matter?" Thor frowned as he took a step inside the room, knowing that grin better than anyone else would. It was the one Loki wore when he had been up to no good and someone was going to fall prey to his schemes, just to entertain him. He stepped in just to make sure Loki wouldn't lock him in his balcony. Again.

"It's a good thing you're holding a sword. Let me fix it for you," Loki ignored his question and waved his hand. With a faint glow, the sword became perfectly sharpened and polished. "There," he kept his grin in place, eyes glinting.

"What-" Thor's question was interrupted by a loud scream, coming from somewhere down the hall.

Without putting down the sword, Thor ran towards the sound out of instinct. Loki stayed behind with an even bigger grin, if such a thing was possible.

"Help! Please, someone, help!" the cries were distinctively feminine, but he couldn't make out whose voice it was, because it was distorted and high-pitched from fear.

Thor raced towards the chamber where the plea for help was coming from. When he got in, Elsred was perched on top of a dresser, crying. There was a black snake on the floor, hissing at her and trying to reach her.

The snake was not very thick, but it had long fangs and it looked poisonous. The snake turned its head in Thor's direction and swiftly glided across the floor towards him, hissing and dripping venom from its fangs. Thor wasn't one to be frozen by fear, so he charged at the snake, slashing its head off quickly as it was moving to bite him.

As soon as he was sure he had killed it, Thor ran to Elsred, who was still numbly terrified on top of the dresser. He helped her come down. She was shaking and as soon as her feet hit the floor, she collapsed into his arms, holding him tightly for balance as she kept crying.

"Thank you so much! You have no idea how absolutely hopeless I felt before you came in," as she stammered the words out and her gaze met his, Thor became suddenly aware of how tightly pressed she was to him, which made him blush furiously. Never before had he been in such a position with a girl before.

"It wasn't anything much, my Lady, I assure you," his adam's apple bobbled like crazy and he felt nervous. Elsred didn't move away, leaning her head against his chest as she settled down, which didn't really help. Just as he was about to suggest she may need to go to the healers, so they could give her a potion to soothe her, a metallic sound came from the entrance of the chamber.

"What's going on?" Sif was at the door, looking at the both of them with a rather exasperated expression, her eyes quickly moving between Elsred and Thor. She had dropped the dagger she had brought with her out of shock.

"Well, Thor saved his first damsel in distress, it would seem," Loki said, appearing on the side opposite to the one Sif had come from. He had a smug expression, pointing with his chin towards the slaughtered snake.

Sif's eyes followed his movement. It didn't take her very long to connect the dots and figure out who was to blame for the whole incident. Her eyes turned fiery and she lifted her fist, intending to smack Loki on his jaw. He was quick to side-step her, smiling infuriatingly wide.

"You fool! She could've been seriously hurt! Or Thor!" Sif launched herself towards him, but Loki ran away, saying "Catch me if you can!" in a singsong voice. As expected of the hotheaded girl, she followed him, fuming.

Thor was angry at Loki for putting Elsred in danger, but he had been too dumbfounded by Sif's stormy entrance to do anything about it. He heard Elsred giggle and faced her, confused at her sudden mood change.

"Although Prince Loki scared me half to death, I must admit seeing him and Lady Sif bickering is always funny to me," she smiled and Thor found himself thinking she was beautiful, despite her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He smiled back and nodded.

It was Elsred's turn to blush as she realized she was still holding him close. She disentangled herself from his arms with a crimson red face.

"I'm sorry, your Grace. I didn't mean to overstep boundaries. Is there any way I can try to compensate you for your troubles?" she laced her fingers together and shyly looked up at Thor, who already towered over her despite his young age.

"It wasn't any trouble at all," he hesitated. "But there _is_ something I'd like to ask, my Lady," he smiled.

Perhaps Loki hadn't acted so bad. No one had been hurt, after all and Thor had looked good in front of the Lady. She hadn't even taken offense to his brother's jest and now she was asking if he wanted anything in return.

This was a perfect excuse to ask her to bake her chocolate cakes and talk to her some more.

His smile grew broader.


	3. Flying Sandals

**Flying Sandals**

Thor and Elsred were sitting under an ancient magnolia tree in Frigga's garden. The flowers in bloom spread out their perfume, but the scent of the freshly baked chocolate cakes inside the picnic basket next to Elsred rose above it.

She had baked plenty of them. The older girls in the kitchen liked Elsred and she had fallen in the good graces of the head cook, because of her niceness. She had sort of a free pass to bake there, as long as she didn't interfere during the busy hours of food preparation and service.

Elsred was always questioning the kitchen staff on what were the best recipes for this or that dish or what were the best techniques for roasting and grilling, among other things. They found her enthusiasm amusing and enjoyed her presence there, seeing as she broke the monotony of daily tasks.

Elsred, on the other hand, loved watching everyone work so in sync to produce delicious meals that were also beautifully presented. Albeit the constant movement of people from one station to another and the hectic pace of each task, there was seldom serious arguments there, even though everyone was rather loud.

"So what do you think, my Lady?" Thor asked, watching her eyes shine as she took in the garden around her. Elsred had told Thor she missed the forests of Alfheim, so he had asked Frigga if he could take the girl to visit her private gardens. Elsred was quite struck with the luscious flora and trees. Millennia of Frigga's care had turned them into one of the most beautiful gardens she had ever seen.

"It's amazing. In Alfheim the trees are so tall and thick that our houses are built in the trunks of the living trees, but the flowers here... they're so beautiful and different. In Alfheim there's a lot of green, but no flowers quite like these. Thank you so much for showing this to me, your Highness. I shall thank her Majesty for allowing me such an honor," she turned to him, smiling widely.

"Nonsense, Lady Elsred. Mother told me she was most glad to be of aid to the daughter of Arnora Grettisdóttir. She holds your mother in high regards," he smiled back at her.

Elsred's mother worked as an Ambassadress of Asgard in Alfheim, the realm of the Light Elves.

Elsred had lived in Alfheim for most of her life, but things there had started going awry that year. There had been a lot of attacks from the Dark Elves, with many casualties as an aftermath, so her parents had asked permission to send her back to live in Asgard, where she would be safe.

Her father was a light elf, a personal guard and friend of the king of Alfheim, so he couldn't leave and her mother had the duty of reporting back to Odin, in case Alfheim's situation turned unmanageable and the king of Elves decided his people would need an ally.

"Pardon my curiosity, but I had no idea you were half elvish. You do have fair skin, but your ears are not at all pointy. How is that possible?" she laughed and he felt a little embarrassed for asking.

"I guess the pointy ears gene just didn't reach me, I don't really know why. I do have my father's eyes and skin, but his hair is white blond and mine is more than a few shades darker, like my mother's," she looked up to the sky, smiling as she pictured her parents and friends. "My friends in Alfheim make fun of it and they say _I _have weird ears. There aren't many Aesir where we live and most of the Elves have black or white blond hair, so any other shades draw attention."

Elsred reached for the basket and tossed Thor a small cake wrapped in a cloth napkin. It was still hot, filling Thor's hands with warmth.

"Be careful, Prince Thor. It would be best if you let it cool down," she warned, resting a cake on her lap.

"You needn't worry, my Lady, the Aesir rarely ever get sick," he grinned at her as he took a bite. Thor's eyes lit up at the taste. It was exactly as he remembered it: perfection in a cake.

"I was wondering if your Grace would mind calling me only by my name. It's strange to hear the word 'Lady' linked to it. I'm only fourteen after all and I grew up climbing trees, which is hardly very ladylike," Elsred scrunched up her nose, which made him laugh.

"Only if you will drop all those royal titles and just call me Thor!" he answered. He was glad that she didn't require him to treat her formally. That in itself was surely a sign they were becoming a bit closer.

Elsred's eyes widened and she looked at her hands in her lap, hesitating a little. "But you're of royal blood, I don't think it would be appropriate," she bit her lip and then picked at small bits of cake with her fingers as she spoke.

"I'll tell you this: Whenever we're alone or only Sif and Loki are around, you may call me by my name. If anyone else should be around, you can call me whatever you like or whatever makes you feel more adequate," Thor smiled kindly and Elsred nodded, a shy smile on her lips.

"Really, brother, she may call you whatever she likes? Even if she wants to call you Sparkles or Captain Flatulence or something along those lines?" Loki stood behind them, having soundlessly walked up to them.

Elsred jumped up at the sound of Loki's voice. She was not expecting him to appear out of nowhere and when he did she was startled. "Oh, hello Prince Loki."

Thor on the other hand merely rolled his eyes at his brother's remark. "I doubt that very much, Loki."

"You may call me Loki, Elsred, since the formalities are seemingly being dropped," he smiled at her and then addressed Thor. "What? They're perfectly accurate nicknames. You have that whole shiny golden hair thing going and you_ know_ that if you have too much bean and meat stew for dinner-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence-!" shouted Thor exasperatedly, getting to his feet.

"-it can be rather unpleasant to sit next to you, before it's out of your system," finished Loki, with an innocent look.

There was an awkward silence as Thor glared daggers at Loki, who looked way too satisfied with himself for Thor's taste, especially after saying such humiliating things. Elsred was trying hard not to laugh, both at what Loki had said and because it was funny watching Thor move his jaw wordlessly and point his finger accusingly at Loki as he tried to find something to say.

"Do you want chocolate cake?" Elsred asked, extending to each of the Princes a cake, trying to get them distracted from their dispute.

They both turned to look at her. After a few seconds, they exchanged a look and Thor seemed less tense.

"I would very much like that, thank you," Loki replied, taking one from her left hand.

"Thank you, Elsred," Thor grumbled, taking a step and grabbing the other from her right hand.

Both princes of Asgard sat down beneath the magnolia tree, one looking annoyed and the other with a smug expression. Elsred took a bite of her now cold chocolate cake and successfully avoided laughter.

"I thought Sif would come with you. I have brought more than enough cakes for all of us. Where is she?" Elsred stared at Loki expectantly.

"Oh, yes. You see, we_ may_ have made it a small contest out of who would get here first and I _might_ have cheated by tripping her up and then leaving her behind, just to make her upset," he shrugged as he took another bite.

"You tripped Sif up and she actually_ fell_?" Thor seemed skeptical.

"Is she alright?" Elsred worried.

"_Loki Odinson, I am going to bloody _murder _you_!" Sif's shout came from a good feet away, as soon as her eyes landed on him.

"I'd say she's perfectly fine," Loki said nonchalantly. Next thing he knew, a sandal had hit him across the head and he had nearly dropped his cake. "Oi, don't make me waste cake, you mewling quim!" he was rubbing his head when the second sandal followed, hitting him harder this time.

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**A/N:** Sooo... What did you think? :) Also, I'm thinking I might end up adding a bit of Loki/Sif to this. What would you say about that?

Thanks so much to everyone who favorited/followed and a special thanks to Isabella Greengrass and wafflebunny804 for the reviews! You're all awesome and I really apreciate you taking time to read my story^^ Also, sorry about any mistakes you might find. I'm crazy busy at the moment and I didn't get much time to proof read this before posting... My bad =/ I just didn't want to keep you waiting!


	4. Shame

**A/N:** Sorry about the delay ._. My exams and internship got in the way of my plot bunnies. Hopefully you can forgive me!  
Thank you for the positive response about the Loki/Sif question. I kinda ended up writing this whole chapter about them, though. Ahem. *hides* Sorry, really, Elsred and Thor will have the spotlight next time, I promise!  
Thanks to anyone who favorited/followed and to Argetaie, Alliprince and Isabella Greengrass for the amazing reviews! :) It means a lot to me and it helps to keep me motivated^^ Please let me know what you think of this new story angle, I really want to know!  
On with the chapter.

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**Shame**

Loki stood against a column, his invisibility illusions shadowing him from any sight, provided no one who bypassed him was gifted in sorcery. His skills had evolved at a hallucinating pace since his early infancy, he mused, smiling as a servant looked directly at where he was leaning against the stone without seeing him.

Frigga had taken Loki's innate propensity to magic and instructed him under rigorous training, sometimes allowing him to visit her own mentors or summoning guests who could add something to his education that she herself could not.

Odin indulged her, although he clearly disapproved. In Odin's mind, Loki had to be out with Thor, building up muscle and raw talent for battle, instead of wasting time with such things. He thought the ingenious ways in which Loki used his magic in the battlefield were nothing but child's play, merely something that ought to be frowned upon.

Frigga's passion for magic, which was something that Loki obviously shared, binded them close together. She had always been his source of comfort, when Odin's harsh condescending comments made him feel displaced.

One day he would prove his father wrong. Loki would show him that a powerful sorcerer could be as good as a bulky warrior in a time of need. All he had to do was keep improving his abilities to a point of flawlessness and the time to prove his worth would surely present itself.

"I will _not _wear that, Mother!" a familiar voice broke him away from his thoughts and brought a smile to his lips.

_Ah, Sif and her tantrums_. He decided to sneak in and have a closer look, still cloaked by his invisibility.

If possible, he always liked to make matters worse for Sif, in a playful way. Teasing her was his personal favorite pastime, because it was always oh so amusing to watch her light brown eyes ignite with that spark only she possessed.

The other girls always reacted to his antics with controlled and poised anger, gracefully accepting the apologies his mother made him pay them (when there was evidence he was behind said antics, which was seldom), but always ended up resenting him and treating him with cold indifference, as if he did not matter.

Sif, however, could shout her head off at him or smack him in the face, but the next day all would be well and their companionship, even if a bit dysfunctional, would remain intact. Loki could then resume his torture on her, without so much as a twinge of guilt and knowing she would challenge him back.

It took so little to make Sif snap, that it never failed to amuse him to do it. He caused her to tear the hair from her head, sometimes quite literally, which made him feel smug, for some reason.

When Loki stepped into the room, she was having a shouting match with her mother, Lady Ravdna, who was unrelentingly unsupportive of Sif's decision to pursue a warrior life.

"The summer solstice feast is an important social event, Sif. I will not have you dressed as a commoner, dishonoring your father and I. You _will_wear this!" Ravdna had one of her hands in the air and she held a light yellow dress in the other. It had far too much embroidery and frilly elements to suit her daughter's taste.

Sif stood a few inches away, a deep frown embbed in her features and a look of disgust directed at the object in her mother's hand.

"I will not, it's hideous and it takes away my dignity as a warrior!" Sif sneered.

"Insolent child! Mark my words, you will one day come begging your father to find you someone suitable to wed and no one will be willing. They will know all you ever did was toy around, never learning the proper skills of a Lady. They will know you won't fulfill the duties of a wife or stand behind them like you should. Leave such foolishness behind, before it's too late!"

Loki watched, for once not finding the situation humorous in the slightest. Sif tensed at Ravdna's words, determination setting into her eyes as she spoke.

"I will never beg for such a thing, Mother. I would sooner leave Asgard, than beg to be chained to a man I do not love and accomplish nothing on my own, like you!"

Sif's eyes widened when her mother's hand connected roughly with her face, a red mark emerging almost immediately on her fair skin. Tears prickled her eyes, but she clenched her jaw, deciding not yield to the hurt she felt at her mother's lack of support and belief in her.

"You are my shame," Ravdna told her, discarding the dress on the floor before she stormed out of the room. Tears were running down her face, but Loki felt no compassion, after what she had said and done.

No sooner had Ravdna left, Sif sunk down onto a chair, lips wobbling in her continued effort not to cry, even now that she was alone. Or at least,_thought _herself to be alone. Sif put her face in her hands, sliding them into her hair and a choked sound escaped her, but no tears fell.

Loki didn't know what to do, except admire her strenght. He knew Sif would not like it if he were to try to comfort her. He knew the best thing to do was probably leave and pretend he hadn't witnessed just how frail Sif's relationship with her mother was.

For some reason, though, his feet remained rooted to the spot and wouldn't allow him to leave her in the state she was in.

Loki suddenly realized why. The same way Ravdna was unable to understand Sif's goals and recognize her skills, Odin despised his.

He undid the spell that kept his illusion in place and soundlessly made his way towards her. He hesitated for a second, pondering what to say or do. Before he had the chance, Sif turned her face upwards, glaring at him.

"What are you doing here?" her voice sounded strained.

Loki opened his mouth, but closed it almost immediately.

He wanted to tell her that he thought she would be a great warrior someday. That he knew what she was feeling like and that he thought any man who ended up marrying such a fierce girl could count himself lucky, whether or not she knew how to sow. He wanted to say he'd seen her fighting in the fields and knew she would make it, if anything with sheer determination and wit, rather than brute force.

But all he said instead was: "That dress truly _is_ hideous."

There was silence for a few seconds as she studied him, now aware that he had been in the room the entire time. The fact that he did not take to being cruel and was trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how made her stand up and do the one thing he hadn't anticipated she would ever do: she kissed his cheek. Her lips connected with his face for only brief seconds and it was a rather clumsy kiss, seeing as he was taller than her and she had to get on her tiptoes. His skin tingled where her lips had touched his face and he reflexively put his hand on the spot.

"Thank you," her smile was lopsided and a red tint spread out over her cheeks, despite the sadness in her eyes. Sif got out of the room half jogging, leaving him to stand there too dumbfounded to do anything but hold on to the feeling of warmth that crept into him the moment she reached out to plant that kiss on his cheek.


End file.
